


When The Stakes Are High

by IsaWritings



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaWritings/pseuds/IsaWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years have passed since Kurt rescued Blaine and ended up marrying him. They are happily living in the castle until, one day, their peace is disturbed and they realise they might not be as safe as they thought. Meanwhile, new and old friends pay a visit, uncovering secrets and complicating their lives even further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel of 'Lost In The Shuffle'. For those who haven't read that one yet: I suggest you do since most of the background is set in that story and there will be references to it. 
> 
> So without further ado: enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

_“Finn, Puck, take the kids and go!”_

It was a beautiful summer's day. The sun shone happily through the trees of a large forest just a few kilometres from the Eirenian castle.

 _The assailants were_ _coming from_ _all directions_ _at once_ _, too many for one man alone to fend off._

Somewhere inside the forest was a clearing, where two small children of five and three years old were playing on the bank of a little stream while their young father kept a watchful eye on them.

_He looked back at Mike, who wouldn't be of much help with his broken leg, even if he had been conscious. And trying to make a run for it would only earn them a sword in their backs._

Three guards were taking turns patrolling the area, there to protect the man and his children, while their horses were grazing peacefully a bit further away.

 _His only option was to fight, even though the situation_ _looked_ _hopeless._

 _“I love you, Kurt,” he murmured and_ _prepared_ _himself to_ _fight_ _the way his husband_ _– who was the best swordsman of his age –_ _had taught him._

* * *

“Ariana, not too close to the water,” Blaine Anderson called to his daughter, the eldest of his two children. Jonathan, her younger brother who was named after Blaine's father, tried to sneak up on him from behind, so Blaine pretended to be surprised when the boy suddenly jumped on his back.

“Aah! Mike, help me, I'm under attack,” he yelled dramatically while Jonathan squealed in delight. Ariana soon joined her brother and together they 'forced' their father to the ground. Mike grinned and stood up for another round of checking the area.

“Traitor,” Blaine muttered.

By the time the kids had worn themselves out, Jonathan was lying on his chest, staring him straight in the eyes, and Ariana had her head on one of his legs.

“Daddy?” she asked in her clear voice. “Why couldn't papa come with us?”

“Because he had a meeting with some very important people.”

“Ugh, he always has stupid meetings.”

“That's because he's a very important man, sweetie. Besides, he came with us yesterday, didn't he?”

“I suppose.”

Since Burt had left the throne to his son a year ago, Kurt had been a lot busier. But despite his many responsibilities, he still tried to make as much time for his husband and children as he could. And while he wasn't as occupied as Kurt, Blaine had his own set of obligations as the king's husband. He often had to attend the same meetings and was always happy to be able to skip one every once in a while. Whenever he had the time and the weather allowed it, Blaine liked to take the children to the clearing so they weren't cooped up in the castle all the time. Probably one of the consequences of his own history as a prisoner.

Blaine was pulled out of his thoughts when, all of a sudden, the horses started pulling at their reins and neighing nervously. Mike was doing his best to calm them down while Finn and Puck drew their swords in alarm. Blaine got to his feet, picked up his son and pulled Ariana up with him, ready to start running at the first sign of danger. They all started retreating towards the horses while Mike untied them.

Of the four adults, Blaine was the first to see them. He had always been good at noticing details or small changes, in an unconscious attempt to see _everything_ there was to see if he was given the chance to. Kurt often joked he'd be a great scout.

“Finn,” he whispered once the guard was close enough, “we're surrounded. There's at least a dozen of them.”

Blaine quickly deliberated what they should do. He knew they were far outnumbered and, in addition, he had to think about the safety of the children. Their best chance was to jump on the horses and drive like hell.

His rudimentary plan went out of the window when suddenly one of the horses reared up in fear, hit Mike and ran off through the trees. Making a split-second decision, Blaine pushed Ariana in Puck's arms and handed Jonathan to Finn.

“Finn, Puck, take the children and go!”

The guards stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, while he knelt next to Mike to assess his condition. His leg was lying in a weird angle, definitely broken, and he was unconscious.

“What? No, forget it, man.”

“Go!” Blaine insisted. “Take them to the castle, they'll be safe there. I'll be right behind you with Mike.”

It was a lie. There was no way he could get Mike on a horse quickly. But it was necessary. Blaine knew that if those men were there for him, he had to separate himself from his children to keep them safe; if the children were the target, they would be best protected by Finn and Puck. And even if they were all marked, their attackers would have to split up. Either way, he had to send them away with the two uninjured guards.

“Go on! That's an order,” Blaine shouted when they still didn't move. At once, Jonathan started crying at his father's angry tone, which seemed to startle Puck and Finn into action. They put the children on two of the horses and climbed up behind them. Ariana was crying now as well, twisting in Puck's grip and screaming for her daddy.

“We'll send help,” Finn promised before kicking his horse to a start.

Blaine could hear some curses from between the trees and drew his sword. Gradually, the men hiding in the forest started appearing. Because of their dark clothes, Blaine couldn't tell which lord or country they belonged to – if they belonged to someone – and he didn't recognise any of them.

The assailants were coming from all directions at once, too many for one man alone to fend off. Blaine looked back at Mike, who wouldn't be of much help with his broken leg, even if he had been conscious. And trying to make a run for it would only earn them a sword in their backs. His only option was to fight, even though the situation looked hopeless.

“I love you, Kurt,” he murmured and prepared himself to fight the way his husband – who was the best swordsman of his age – had taught him.

* * *

While one of his councilmen droned on about some issue they had discussed a hundred times before, Kurt felt his father nudging him to attention. He had been thinking longingly of Blaine and the kids, who were currently out enjoying the sun, and wishing he could be there with them.

From outside, a loud call of a horn interrupted the councillor's monotone speech. Kurt was on his feet in a flash. Everyone in the room knew that that signal meant danger. Before he could do anything else, Sam – his best friend and right-hand man – stormed into the room, nodded briefly at the assembled council and turned to Kurt.

“You have to come immediately. It's Blaine.”

Kurt didn't need to hear anything else. He followed him out, demanding Sam tell him everything on the way downstairs.

“What about the children?” he asked once Sam had explained what he knew from Puck and Finn.

“They're fine. They're with Tina. I told David to gather the soldiers on duty; they should be ready to leave right away.”

“Good.”

Kurt knew every minute counted. Blaine had become a fairly good fighter thanks to his lessons, but he also knew his husband liked to avoid having to fight if possible. He wasn't a coward, but due to his past, he preferred to solve conflicts in a peaceful way.

Only ten minutes later, the group of soldiers was en route to the forest, led by Kurt, who was hoping against hope that they weren't too late yet.

* * *

Blaine was getting tired. He was trying to hold off several attackers at once and his right arm was bleeding, so that he was forced to fight with his left.

_“Every soldier should be capable of fighting with both hands, Blaine.”_

His husband's words echoed through his mind while he did his very best to stay alive. He realised it wouldn't be much longer before he got killed, but at least he would have sold his life dearly.

Suddenly, one of the men standing guard at the edge of the clearing – probably to keep away the help that would surely arrive soon – fell backwards on the ground, a long arrow sticking out of his neck. While Blaine was distracted, one of his attackers managed to get a hit in, causing him to drop on one knee when he felt pain course through his leg. He forced himself back to his feet, just in time to ward off another strike.

More arrows appeared, taking down the men attacking him directly and creating panic among the rest. Most of them went running and only very few succeeded in escaping the arrows seemingly coming out of nowhere. Soon, Blaine was alone in the clearing, apart from Mike and their remaining horse. He looked around, panting, but he couldn't see anyone. Not until they appeared from between the trees cautiously.

They were unlike anyone Blaine had ever seen. They were strangely pale – even paler than Kurt –, their eyes were large and dark, and they had pointed ears. In addition, they were unusually elegant and moved with a certain grace, not making a sound as they approached him, their bows held loosely in their hands.

“Elves,” Blaine breathed and almost dropped his sword. He had read about them, but had never met one before. The one closest to him, who seemed to be the leader of the small group, said something in a strange language, after which the others spread out and took up defence positions. Then the leader addressed Blaine, switching to English.

“Don't be afraid, young man. We mean you no harm.”

He looked pointedly at Blaine's still raised sword.

“Who are you?” Blaine asked suspiciously, not lowering his guard.

“My name is Dalonderiel. I am the leader of this delegation.”

“Delegation?”

“Yes. We were on our way to visit the new king of Eirenia when we heard your being in distress.”

Blaine dropped his sword a little. He didn't know whether this man – elf – was telling the truth, but he was also aware they could easily have killed him already, if they had wanted to.

“You were going to the castle?”

“Yes. I assume you are from there as well? If you want, we can accompany you and your friend back. As you've seen, we can protect you.”

Blaine still didn't trust them, but nodded anyway. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he needed their help.

“You are injured,” Dalonderiel remarked.

“I'm fine,” Blaine replied. “Mike... His leg is broken.”

The elf knelt next to the unconscious guard. He said something in the other language – probably Elvish – again. Two of the stationed elves approached with some thick, straight branches, while Dalonderiel took what looked like bandages out of a bag. The three of them quickly but efficiently braced Mike's leg, causing him to wake up moaning in pain.

“Easy,” Blaine said, laying his hand on Mike's shoulder to keep him from trying to sit up.

When all of the elves suddenly turned in the same direction, raising their bows as one, Blaine looked up, startled. After a while, he heard it too: the sound of hooves.

“Are you expecting someone?” Dalonderiel asked quietly.

Only when he gave his answer, did Blaine realise he had been holding his breath.

“Um... Finn said he'd send help...”

He trailed off, wondering whether the Eirenians could have gotten there that quickly.

Finally, the approaching horses reached their destination.

“Kurt,” Blaine sighed in relief when he saw his husband at the head of the group, his sword drawn and ready to strike.

“Hold your fire,” Dalonderiel immediately ordered, in English for the Eirenians' sake. Kurt held up his hand in response, keeping his men from charging.

“Kurt!”

Blaine stood up, ignoring the pain in his leg, and limped towards him. When the elves lowered their bows and took a few steps back, clearly showing they were no threat, Kurt dismounted, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and looking around at the various bodies surrounding them. The elves backed away even more, giving him room to go to his husband with Sam right behind him acting as bodyguard.

“Blaine.”

They met somewhere in the middle and embraced each other tightly.

“Kurt, the children?” Blaine asked in a whisper.

“They're safe.”

“Thank the gods.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

Blaine nodded.

“Yeah. Dalonderiel and his group chased them off. I would've been dead if it weren't for them.”

Suddenly, he pulled away and Kurt could see an enthusiastic spark shining in his eyes.

“They're elves, Kurt. Real elves.”

Kurt chuckled lightly. That was so Blaine. Despite almost being killed, he was still as excited as a child about experiencing something new.

“I can see that, honey.” He turned to Dalonderiel and extended his hand. “I am king Kurt of Eirenia. It seems I have you and your friends to thank for saving the life of my husband.”

“It was our pleasure, your Highness. Although I did not know he was your husband,” Dalonderiel added pleasantly.

“Still, you have my deepest gratitude. I'd like to invite you to come to the castle with us.”

“That's very kind of you, sire. We were actually going there already.”

“Perfect.” He looked at Blaine and noticed how he was favouring one of his legs, which was still bleeding. “Blaine, honey, sit down. Let me have a look at your injuries.”

“I'm alright, Kurt.” But he sat down nonetheless.

While Kurt was wrapping some temporary bandages Dalonderiel had given him around Blaine's arm and leg, he saw from the corner of his eye that Sam was checking the bodies lying around the clearing, turning them over to see their faces. A few of the elves carefully laid Mike on a stretcher. When Kurt was done, he helped his husband onto his horse and picked up the sword Blaine had dropped. He set himself behind Blaine and led the group back to the palace, content when Blaine leaned against him.

“I'm glad you're okay,” Kurt whispered in his ear.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

“Did you recognise any of them?”

“No,” Blaine replied.

“I did,” Sam said. “A few of them actually, but I'm not sure from where.”

“Maybe they were just common robbers?” Burt suggested.

“I don't think so,” Sam retorted. “Unless they're stolen, their swords say otherwise.”

“They also didn't act like robbers,” Dalonderiel said calmly. “They didn't carry any bows or crossbows and weren't very organised. Besides, robbers wouldn't operate this close to the castle. I believe they were there to kill Blaine.”

Blaine swallowed, glancing down. Kurt rubbed his back comfortingly.

“We'll find them. David is still combing the area.”

“Then there's nothing we can do but wait for him to come back. How's Mike?” Burt asked.

“As expected, his leg's broken, he has a mild concussion and a broken rib. But Tina says he'll be okay.”

Burt nodded before turning to the leader of the elves.

“So, Dalonderiel, what brings you to Eirenia?”

“Your son, actually.” Kurt looked up in surprise. “I wanted to personally congratulate you on becoming king, your Highness. It is a great responsibility for someone as young as you are, but from what I've seen so far, I am sure you can handle it.”

“... Thank you very much. That actually means a lot to me. But did you come all the way here for that? You don't do that for every new king, do you?”

Dalonderiel laughed lightly.

“No, of course not. But you're more... special to me.”

Kurt raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“No offence, but I've never seen you before.”

“I am aware of that. You may not know this, but you are in fact part elf. Your great-great-grandmother was an elf, your Highness. Her blood has been passed on to you by your mother.”

Kurt stared at him, then at his father, who looked equally shocked.

“Is that true?”

“If it is, I had no idea. Your mother never told me.”

“She might not have known either,” Dalonderiel interrupted. “Your great-great-grandmother... Her name was Adriana. She fell in love with a human and left us to live among the humans. When her life partner died, she gave up her long life to be with him for all eternity, united in death. But her children stayed here.”

“You sound like you knew Adriana personally...”

“I did. She was my daughter.”

“... But... that means you're...”

“Your great-great-great-grandfather, yes.”

If anything, Kurt was even more astounded than before. He knew elves lived a lot longer than humans did, but the concept was very hard to grasp, especially considering the fact that Dalonderiel looked like he was no older than forty years old.

“Wow,” he heard Blaine mumble beside him.

Wow indeed.

* * *

“So,” Blaine started as they were lying in bed that evening. “You're... one sixteenth elf.”

“Apparently.”

“No wonder you're so good-looking. How old do you think Dalonderiel is?”

“No idea. Older than he looks, obviously.”

“Do you reckon it would be rude to ask him?”

“ _Yes_ , it would. … This is so weird.”

“Wait.” Blaine suddenly sat up in alarm. “Does this mean you're going to live a lot longer than me?”

That was something Kurt hadn't considered yet.

“I don't know. Maybe we should ask Dalonderiel. If I'm lucky, I'll stay young for the rest of my life.”

Blaine snorted.

“Don't worry, you'll always be beautiful, even if you grow old and grey.”

“Yeah, right. Let's hope I have enough elf genes to keep that horror story from coming true.”

Blaine stayed silent for a while, laying back down next to Kurt.

“But... what if I get old and grey while you stay young and beautiful? What if you don't want me anymore?” he mused sadly.

“That's never going to happen,” Kurt said firmly.

“You don't know that. Who knows how you'll feel about me in twenty or forty years.”

“Blaine, look at me.” Kurt gently turned his face towards him. “I love you. That's not going to change, not if I can help it. And it's not because of how attractive you are. I fell in love with you when you were looking like a corpse someone had somehow brought to life, remember?”

“Gee, thanks,” Blaine muttered sarcastically.

“You didn't see yourself back then, Blaine. You were skin and bones. But I fell in love with you anyway. I fell in love with who you are, not how you look. That's not going to change, no matter how old you or we both get. Besides, I'm willing to bet you'll still be gorgeous in twenty or forty years, even with crow's feet and grey hair.”

Blaine smiled appreciatively and kissed him on the lips.

“I love you too.”

“Let's get some sleep, huh?”

Kurt petted Blaine's hair and watched as his husband quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the day's events.

* * *

The search of the forest led to nothing. They even asked the inhabitants of nearby villages if they had seen anything suspicious, but they hadn't, so David and the rest of the search party concluded the attackers must have found another escape route.

Meanwhile, Dalonderiel and his group had agreed to stay for a few weeks. Kurt's motives for the invitation were two-fold: on the one hand, it was a way of showing his gratitude to the elves for saving Blaine's life; on the other hand, he was incredibly curious about his new-found family. They talked about the elves and their culture – while Blaine bombarded Dalonderiel with questions about things he had read about – and also about their family. Kurt told the elf all about his mother, how she had lived and how she had died. In turn, his great-great-great-grandfather listed the relatives they had in common, most of whom were still alive. Kurt suddenly discovered uncles, aunts, nieces and nephews he had never known about – scattered over several generations – and his head was almost spinning from all the stories Dalonderiel recounted.

Of course, Kurt had also shared Blaine's concerns with him.

_“I am afraid I cannot give you a straight answer, my dear boy. It's different for everyone. Some hybrids are more human than elf or the other way round. Some people like you still happen to have a number of distinct elvish characteristics and some have none at all. It depends. In your case, your looks and posture somewhat betray your roots. But there is no telling which other features you have inherited.”_

_“I'm not going to live for hundreds of years, am I? I don't think I could handle that. Not to mention the fact that my subjects will probably be fed up with me long before that.”_

_“Probably not,” Dalonderiel replied, grinning. “In general, elvish humans – those that are more human than elf – tend to lean towards a human life span.”_

_“That's a relief, I guess. Not that I don't want a long life, but I don't want to watch everyone around me die while I stay alive. Especially Blaine. In that aspect, I can relate to Adriana.”_

Then, almost a week after the murder attempt in the forest, a messenger arrived announcing they could expect a visit very soon from the son of one of the lords.

When he heard the news, Kurt rolled his eyes in annoyance. This wasn't someone he wanted to have to deal with right now. Or ever. However, as his father reminded him, he had no choice but to house him and his company for as long as they intended to stay.

* * *

“Who's Chandler?”

Ever since the messenger had left, Blaine had been dying to ask. He had noticed Kurt's reaction to the boy's news, of course, but since he had no idea who this guy was, he didn't know what had elicited it. Fortunately for Kurt, he had waited to ask until they were alone.

“He's the oldest son of Lord Kiehl and, therefore, his heir.”

“It looked like you know him. Personally, I mean.”

They were sitting on a bench in the gardens overlooking the flower beds, as they liked to do when they had the opportunity to have a moment for themselves.

“Yeah, I do. Or did. I went on a few dates with him years ago, before I met you.”

“I take it you didn't like him?”

“No, not at all. He seemed nice enough at first, but I realised very quickly he's just like all the others: a pompous ass. The only good thing about him was that he was actually gay and not just pretending to be. So I'm not exactly looking forward to be saddled with him for any period of time. At least you'll be here to distract me.”

He smiled as the sun broke through the clouds.

“And Dalonderiel,” Blaine added. “How long do you think he'll stay? I still have so many questions I want to ask the elves. They're so fascinating.”

“I don't know, honey, but I'm sure you still have plenty of time to interrogate them until their ears fall off.”

“Maybe we can go visit them some day. I'd love to see their country.”

“Maybe. But we should wait until the kids are older. It's a pretty long journey, even without two small children.”

They stayed there for a while, Kurt watching as Blaine fingered leaves and flowers he found on the path, until their children ran out to disturb their peace.

* * *

“Your Highness, how nice to see you again.”

Chandler bowed for Kurt in a theatrical manner, but only nodded his head at Blaine, who was sitting next to his husband in the main hall to receive their guests.

“Hello, Chandler. What brings you here?”

“Nothing too serious, your Highness. I realised it has been too long since we have last seen each other, so I figured it was high time for us to rekindle our... friendship.”

Kurt made a Herculean effort not to roll his eyes in front of the nobleman, but instead he grudgingly welcomed him in his home and invited him to join them for dinner, as etiquette dictated.

For the rest of the evening, Chandler completely monopolised Kurt's attention, sometimes even boldly calling him by his first name instead of using the proper title, while he completely ignored Blaine as if he refused to acknowledge his presence. He obnoxiously talked – in great detail – about Kurt's and his dates seven years ago, as Kurt reminded him repeatedly, and managed to put him on the spot more than once in the process.

As the evening progressed, Kurt's patience was wearing thin. He was getting sick of the nobleman's pomposity and the way he continuously disrespected Blaine, who was getting more upset every minute until he excused himself to go to their room. When, in addition, Chandler started asserting that he would've been in Blaine's place had things gone differently, Kurt finally had enough. He stood up abruptly, cutting Chandler off mid-sentence.

“I'm going to bed,” he announced firmly, then turned to Chandler. “I'd like to remind you that you are in _my_ home and I do not appreciate your disrespecting my husband – who is your king, I might add – and embarrassing me in front of my friends and family. I suggest that you do not overstay your welcome.”

With a final glare at his guest, he left the dining hall, leaving Chandler to stare after him open-mouthed, hardly aware of the many disapproving glances cast at him.

* * *

The next morning, Chandler profusely expressed his regret about what had happened the night before.

“I sincerely apologise for my behaviour yesterday, your Highnesses. I was so overjoyed to see an old friend again that I completely forgot my manners. I hope you can forgive me for how I acted.”

Kurt knew his apologies weren't as sincere as Chandler claimed them to be, but he had no choice but to accept them given that he had to keep in mind that Chandler would be one of the lords in the future.

Over the next week, the nobleman's behaviour improved only slightly. He was still overly friendly towards Kurt, giving him compliments and even gifts, while he was just polite enough to Blaine to avoid being accused of being disrespectful again. Kurt tried to evade him as much as possible, but Chandler somehow always managed to find him. The problem was that, as long as Chandler didn't do anything wrong, Kurt had no valid reason to evict him from the castle lest he offended Chandler and, in extension, the entire Kiehl family.

“Kurt, he's watching us again,” Blaine muttered.

They were playing with Ariana and Jonathan in the garden. Blaine preferred going to the clearing in the forest, but Kurt didn't want him to go back there as long as they hadn't found his assailants. The two of them had already had a small argument concerning that topic.

_“There's always going to be others_ _who want me dead_ _, Kurt, so you might as well keep me locked up for the rest of my life,” Blaine_ _finally_ _yelled, shocking them both. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that...”_

_“It's okay. And I'm sorry too. I don't like this any more than you do, but_ _we should be careful._ _So just humour me, okay? Just for now.”_

_“Okay.”_

Kurt subtly looked at the building behind him and, like Blaine had said, Chandler was standing in front of one of the windows overlooking the gardens.

“Ugh, why can't he just leave us alone?” he sighed in frustration.

“You know, I think he's still in love with you,” Blaine mused.

“He was never in love with me, Blaine. He only ever pretended to like me because of my position. But if he thinks he could ever take your place, he's got another thing coming.”

“I'm glad you feel that way,” Blaine replied, chuckling when he saw Jonathan dive in an attempt to catch a grasshopper. “I wish he would just... go home.”

“He will soon, hopefully. After all, as the heir, he has to help his father attend to his domain's affairs, to learn the ropes.”

When Blaine cast another glance at the window, Chandler had turned away from them and was talking to someone he couldn't discern. They seemed to be arguing about something, judging by the nobleman's firm gestures. Blaine was distracted when Ariana ran up to them and dragged them into a wild game of tag, which ended with all four of them lying in a heap in the grass. By the time he checked the window again, Chandler was gone, leaving Blaine with an uneasy feeling he couldn't explain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dalonderiel was sitting on his own in a corner of the main hall, studying the people walking around. Ever since he had encountered Blaine being attacked in the forest, he had been on the lookoutfor anyone who might pose a threat to the young man. He was convinced those men hadn't been robbers and suspected the culprits might be closer than anyone in the castle realised, especially considering that they must have known that Blaine would be in the clearing that day or that he went there regularly. That feeling had only intensified when Chandler and his company had made an entrance. But so far, he hadn't recognised any of them yet. He had also instructed the other elves to keep an eye out for anyone who might look familiar.

Word had reached him that some new arrivals had joined Chandler's group the day before, which struck Dalonderiel as odd. Why hadn't they been with Chandler when he appeared last week? What had been so important that they had let the nobleman they were supposed to be protecting go on without them? Dalonderiel knew he could recognise Blaine's attackers on the spot if he saw them, but as long as he hadn't, he couldn't share his suspicions with anyone. In addition, it would be too suspicious if he went looking for them in the barracks where all of Chandler's guards stayed; if they were there like Dalonderiel surmised, they might panic and try to escape again. So Dalonderiel waited. He waited for them to come to the main hall, which he knew they would have to do eventually if they cared about being fed.

* * *

“Your Highness.”

Kurt could barely contain his annoyed sigh when he heard Chandler come after him. He plastered a fake smile on his face and turned around.

“Yes?”

“There is something I'd like to discuss with you. In private. Would you mind joining me in my room?”

The young king narrowed his eyes, trying to determine what Chandler's intentions were. He remembered what Blaine had said about the man still being in love with him and, therefore, wasn't very keen to be alone with him. Then again, he might be telling the truth and really just want to talk.

“Will this take long? Blaine is waiting for me, you see...”

“Oh, don't worry. I won't keep you occupied for long.”

Kurt decided to take the risk. Even if Chandler had other intentions than he claimed, he could still use this opportunity to tell him once and for all that his advances weren't appreciated and that it might be best if he returned home sooner rather than later.

“Okay. Lead the way.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Blaine was on his way upstairs. He had just dropped the kids off with Tina, telling her to keep them entertained for at least two hours. He and Kurt desperately needed some alone time. Between the official kingdom matters they had to deal with, their children, Dalonderiel and Chandler, they hadn't had much chance to have a moment just for the two of them without any interferences. So now, he was on his way to their room for a quiet afternoon with his husband. And since there weren't any meetings planned that day, he knew they shouldn't be disturbed unless an emergency presented itself.

Blaine was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a sudden sting in his back. Before he could look behind him, he was harshly forced against the wall, face first, while he felt a cold blade rest against the side of his neck.

“Try to call for help and you'll be bleeding to death before you've even opened your mouth,” a voice hissed in his ear.

“What do you want from me?” Blaine whispered as loudly as he dared. He flinched when the knife dug harder into the tender skin of his neck.

“Shut up. You're going to come with me. If you say anything at all or try to warn anyone, I'll kill you and that person as well. Understood?”

Blaine nodded nervously, his mind racing. He needed to find a way to get away from whoever was threatening him, but he couldn't risk someone else getting hurt, so, for now, he went wherever his attacker was pushing him.

* * *

Eventually, Dalonderiel's patience was rewarded when someone he hadn't seen in the castle before entered the main hall, trying his best not to be noticed. The man was looking around seemingly nonchalantly, as if he were checking whether anyone had seen him or was paying attention to him. From his somewhat hidden spot in the corner, Dalonderiel had a clear view of him and immediately recognised him, even though he wasn't wearing dark clothes this time, but the colours of the nobleman he served. This was one of the men he had been waiting for.

While the man lingered near the door, Dalonderiel stealthily made his way to Sam, who was sitting at one of the tables in deep conversation with some of the elves. He laid a hand on the young man's shoulder, startling him slightly, and leaned in to whisper in his ear, knowing the other elves would still be able to hear him with their superior hearing.

“Sam, I think we have a problem. One of the men from the clearing is here and I suspect he is not alone. He seems to be up to something.”

“Where?”

“At the moment, he's standing near the door. A man dressed in blue and green clothes, brown hair, looking around.”

Sam's eyes quickly found the one Dalonderiel was talking about and suddenly it hit him.

“He's one of Chandler's men. Of course... The men in the clearing... I knew I recognised them from somewhere; they're from Chandler's guard.”

At that moment, the man slipped out of the door surreptitiously.

“He's leaving,” Dalonderiel whispered urgently. “We need to intercept him.”

The elves stood up almost as one, while Sam picked up his sword and stood up as well, heading to the door the man had disappeared through.

* * *

“So, what did you want to discuss?” Kurt asked, cutting to the chase once they had entered Chandler's room. The latter had just closed the door and was now approaching slowly. Kurt thought he seemed a little nervous, but he didn't know why he might feel that way.

“Well, actually, your Highness, I just wanted to talk to you in private, just the two of us without anyone around.” He came closer, invading Kurt's personal space, making him take a step back until his legs hit the edge of the bed behind him. “You see, Kurt, I remember our dates as if they happened yesterday and I'm sure you do too.”

“Chandler–”

“Ssh, you don't have to say anything.”

He was now standing close enough to lay one of his long fingers on Kurt's lips. Kurt jerked his head away from him.

“We could be so good together,” Chandler continued. “You and me, on top of the world. We can rule this kingdom and raise our children together.”

“Get away from me, Chandler.” He pushed against Chandler's chest to keep him at a distance. “I'm already married. To Blaine. And there's no way–”

“Don't worry about him,” Chandler interrupted him again. “It's all been taken care of. Soon, he'll be out of the way and we can be together forever.”

Kurt's heart almost beat out his chest when he heard that. He had to find Blaine. He tried to find a way to get away from the nobleman, but he couldn't without resorting to violence – or self-defence techniques as he preferred to call it. Before he could do so, however, Chandler suddenly pushed him down onto the bed and threw himself on top of him, crushing their lips together in a one-sided kiss.

* * *

They seemed to have reached their destination. Blaine and the stranger, whose face he still hadn't seen, were behind the stables, where he knew they wouldn't be seen by anyone unless someone came there on purpose. Maybe it was for the better, Blaine thought dejectedly. If there was nobody around, no one else could get hurt. He wondered if he could make a run for it without getting his throat slashed, but then realised his attacker might throw the dagger into his back if he tried to flee. Then again, there wasn't anywhere he could run to. The stables had been built in a corner created by two of the outer walls of the castle, with a distance of approximately two meters between the two buildings creating a narrow pathway that was generally used by lovers to make out in secret.

Blaine turned to face his adversary.

“Now what?”

He tried to keep his voice steady in order not to show his fear. Now that he could see the man's face, he realised he had seen him before: the first time he and his buddies had tried to kill Blaine.

Instead of answering his question, the man raised his dagger. Blaine backed away, raising his hands in defence even though he knew it was useless, but the man just grabbed his arm and turned him back around roughly.

“You can't even–” Blaine started, but was interrupted when a sudden pain spread through his skull, quickly overpowering all of his senses while blacks spots appeared in front of his eyes. He was vaguely aware that he had fallen on the ground, but he couldn't get his limbs to move through the pain. Instead, he let himself be dragged around like a rag doll. By the time his vision had cleared again, his hands had been tied together in front of him and attached to a ring that hung from the wall. His head was pounding. With some effort, he pushed himself to his knees, attempting to ignore the dizziness and nausea that immediately came over him at the movement.

“Why are you doing this?” he mumbled.

“Be quiet.”

* * *

Kurt tried to turn his head away, but Chandler wouldn't let him. So, instead, he tried to head-butt him. Even though the action wasn't entirely successful, he did manage to surprise the nobleman. With a quick movement, Kurt brought his hand up and hit Chandler hard on the nose with the palm of his hand. The latter pulled back, clutching his nose and cursing loudly. Kurt rapidly disarmed him and placed the dagger he gained against his neck.

“Where is Blaine? What have you done to him?”

Chandler was staring wide-eyed at the dagger.

“Kurt...”

“You have no right to call me by that name,” Kurt hissed furiously. “Where is Blaine?”

He was tempted to let the knife slip when Chandler still didn't respond, but stopped himself just in time as Chandler choked out his answer.

“Behind the stables.”

Kurt glared at him, letting the pressure of the knife increase for a moment.

“If anything has happened to him, if he's less than alright, I will personally make you pay.”

As he dragged Chandler along with him through the corridors, he passed two guards that had just come from their posts. Instructing them to take the nobleman to the dungeon and not to let him out of their sight, he continued on his way. As he was about to enter the main hall, he heard Sam's voice shouting his name, stopping him in his tracks.

“Kurt,” Sam said urgently when he had caught up to him, followed by Dalonderiel and a few other elves, “Blaine's in danger. He's–”

“Behind the stables, I know.”

As they crossed the main hall, pushing people out of the way in their hurry, and ran outside, Sam told him what they had discovered so far. Apparently, Chandler had ordered two of his men to kill Blaine after the first failed attempt in the forest, one of whom Sam and Dalonderiel had already intercepted. However, that still left one assassin trying to murder Blaine that very moment.

* * *

“You don't have to do this.”

There was only one thing on Blaine's mind: stall for time, keep him talking. Kurt would get worried if he didn't show up for their date and would eventually come looking for him. If he could keep his assailant talking, he might be able to stay alive long enough for Kurt to find them.

“You don't understand. I have no choice.”

It was the first straight answer he had gotten so far.

“What do you mean? Why not? Is someone forcing you to do this?”

“It doesn't matter.”

The man approached with his dagger raised, ready to stab Blaine in the back. The latter desperately tugged at the ropes binding him, in an attempt to yank them loose, but to no avail. He only managed to tighten them even further. Panic was starting to settle over him for several reasons at once – not all of them having to do with his current predicament –, but he couldn't let it overwhelm him.

“It does. If someone's threatening you, we can help you. You don't have to do this.”

“I'm sorry, but I do. Now shut up. I promise I'll make it quick.”

Blaine tried to get free again, but when that didn't work, he turned his head to look straight at his killer. At the very least, he would force his killer to look at him as he was murdered.

All of a sudden, the man dropped his dagger, screaming in agony and clutching his arm, which had been pierced by an arrow. When Blaine looked around, he saw Dalonderiel standing at the entrance of the pathway, his bow raised, along with Kurt and Sam.

* * *

Looking away from the screaming assassin, Kurt saw Blaine sitting on the ground, his hands tied to a ring. He seemed to be struggling to free himself. When Kurt knelt next to him to help him, he could see the fear in his husband's eyes.

“Blaine, relax, honey.” He laid a hand on one of Blaine's arms. “You're going to hurt yourself.”

Blaine didn't even seem to hear him. He kept muttering “My hands, I can't move my hands.” while he tried to wrench them free. Kurt knew he couldn't cut Blaine loose while he was this panicked lest he accidentally nick his arms.

“Blaine, look at me. Look at me.”

He turned Blaine's head towards himself and waited until Blaine's eyes had found his and his frantic movements had stilled. Kurt had an inkling of what was causing Blaine to freak out, what he might be flashing back to.

“You're not there anymore, sweetie. You're safe in Eirenia with me, remember?”

Kurt saw recognition slowly return in his trembling husband's eyes.

“Kurt... My hands,” he whimpered.

“I know, honey. I'm going to cut you loose, but I need you to sit still, okay? I don't want to hurt you.”

Blaine nodded and tried to hold as still as possible while Kurt undid his bonds.

“There you go,” Kurt said softly as he threw the last bit of rope to the side, taking Blaine's hands in his to inspect the chafed and slightly bleeding skin of his wrists. Blaine was staring unseeing at the ground, obviously not entirely back in the present yet. Kurt wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly, rubbing his back when he felt the tremors running through Blaine's body and the heaving breaths he took.

“It's okay. It's over now. You're safe with me,” Kurt said over and over again, hoping it would get through to his husband eventually.

From a distance, Dalonderiel was looking at the couple on the ground with a concerned frown on his face.

“Blaine was imprisoned for twenty years before he came here,” Sam told him quietly when he noticed the elf's confusion. He quickly summarised the events that had occurred six years ago and described the circumstances in which they had found Blaine. “I guess this triggered some bad memories,” he concluded.

Dalonderiel nodded in understanding, realising that Blaine had already faced more than his fair share of hardship in his young life.

Kurt could feel Blaine calming down, but didn't let go.

“Are you with me now?” he asked gently.

“Yes. … My head hurts,” Blaine mumbled, almost inaudibly.

“Did he hit you?”

Blaine nodded, but seemed to regret doing so, judging by the moan that followed the movement. Kurt gingerly ran his fingers across Blaine's scalp and quickly found the right spot when the latter tensed and hissed in pain. When he pulled his fingers back, he could see some blood coating them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

About an hour later, Blaine was asleep while Kurt lay next to him, holding him as he slept. Tina had already come to check on her friend. She had determined that he might have a mild concussion and had told Kurt which symptoms to look out for. In addition, she had given Blaine some herbal tea that would soothe the pain of his headache and also had a calming effect. Hopefully, it would keep the nightmares at bay at least for now.

Kurt was startled out of his reverie when the door creaked open slowly. Ariana appeared in the doorway with Jonathan. They stayed rooted to the spot, unsure whether they were allowed to come in, until their father motioned them over.

“Papa, is daddy sick?” Ariana asked after gingerly climbing onto the bed while Kurt carefully disentangled himself from Blaine to pick Jonathan up and set him on the bed as well.

“No, monkey, he's just a bit upset, that's all.”

“Why is he upset?” Jonathan asked.

Kurt wasn't sure what to tell his son, but Ariana beat him to it.

“It's because some bad men tried to hurt him,” she said matter-of-factly, looking at her father for confirmation.

“That's right.” They must've heard the adults talking about it, so Kurt decided he might as well give them a child-appropriate version of what had happened. “But the bad men are all locked up now so they can't hurt anyone anymore.”

“Why did they want to hurt daddy?” Jonathan asked, frowning.

Kurt rubbed his thumb over his son's brow, smoothing the little frown.

“I don't know. But I'll ask them.”

The boy nodded seriously. Then he lifted Blaine's arm and crawled underneath, cuddling up to him as closely as possible. In his sleep, Blaine unconsciously tightened his hold around the boy and sighed contentedly. Ariana got comfortable as well and soon, Kurt was watching all three members of his little family sleep peacefully.

* * *

Kurt was sitting all alone in the conference room, thinking things over and wondering what to do about the mess Chandler had made. If it were up to him, Chandler wouldn't live to see another day. Then again, he couldn't just ignore Blaine's pleas.

“ _What's going to happen to Chandler and his accomplices?” Blaine asked timidly, settling himself in Kurt's arms on the couch in their room._

_“Well, um, they'll be tried, of course.” Kurt did his best to keep his emotions in check. “But considering what they're guilty of, they'll probably get the death penalty.”_

_Blaine stayed quiet for a while. Kurt wanted to ask him what was going on in his mind, but decided to give him some time to process._

_“Kurt, that guy who was going to kill me... I think... I think he was forced into this.”_

_“What makes you say that?”_

_“Before you came, I tried to talk to him, to get him to change his mind. He said he didn't have a choice and that we couldn't help him. He wouldn't tell me what he meant, but I think we should at least ask him. And his companion too. I mean, what if they really didn't have a choice? What if Chandler blackmailed them?”_

_Blaine had a point. Not many people were prepared to kill a king, after all, even if their lord ordered them to._

_“You're right. If they're willing to admit it, they might get a lighter sentence.”_

_Blaine nodded, deep in thought._

_Kurt tightened his hold on him and kissed him behind his ear, careful to avoid the still tender spot on the back of his head._

_“Are you okay, honey?”_

_Blaine hummed in affirmation. He turned around to look at Kurt with a serious expression._

_“Would you do me a favour?”_

_His tone was tentative._

_“Of course.”_

_“Spare Chandler's life?”_

_“What?” Kurt abruptly sat up straighter. “Blaine, he ordered his men to kill you. Twice.”_

_“I know, but–”_

_“But what, Blaine? Why are you defending him? He wanted you dead!” Kurt started pacing, gesturing wildly. “Don't you think he deserves to be punished?”_

_“Of course I do. I'm not saying we should let him go free–”_

_“Then what? He doesn't deserve your pity.”_

_“His family does,” Blaine replied firmly, shutting Kurt up effectively. “I'm aware it's not the same situation, but I know what it's like to lose someone like that. I've seen what it does to the ones who are left behind.”_

_He glanced down uncertainly._

_“Death is so... final. You can never undo that, never give his parents their son back. I know that what he did was horrible, but... If I let you hang him, I'll have his death on my conscience and that's not something I could ever live with.”_

_“Blaine...”_

_Kurt walked back to the couch and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in his own._

_“I understand your point of view, I do. And I promise you I'll take it into account. But_ you _have to understand that I can't make any promises as far as the outcome of the trial is concerned.”_

_Blaine nodded, still staring at the ground._

_“Honey, will you please look at me?” When he did, Kurt continued. “I want you to know that whatever the outcome is, whatever is decided, it won't be your fault, okay?”_

Blaine hadn't answered, so Kurt knew it bothered him more than he wanted to let on. Which meant Kurt was now faced with a dilemma. As king and judge in one, he was supposed to be objective, but how could he be when his husband was the victim in this case?

After he had been pondering over the matter for a while, his father entered the room.

“There you are. You okay, son?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

It wasn't very convincing. Burt grabbed the nearest chair and sat down next to his son.

“Okay, talk to me. What's eating you?”

“I'm trying to decide what to do about Chandler. What he did was unforgivable in my opinion and I thought I had already made up my mind. But then Blaine practically begged me to be lenient with him. I'm afraid Chandler won't get an honest chance to defend himself, because there is no way I can be objective, no matter how hard I try.” He paused, sighing deeply. “Can't you be the judge for this one?”

“Sorry, buddy, no can do. Only the king can do that. But that doesn't mean you have to make this decision on your own, Kurt. You can ask the opinions of others.”

“Like who? Everyone here is bound to be biased as well.”

“Like the lords. And maybe the council too. They might be biased to some extent, but don't forget that there's more honesty in a group than in an individual.”

Kurt nodded in contemplation.

“Perhaps you have a point. … What would you do?”

“I don't know. One more piece of advice, though: don't let your emotions make the decision. You might end up doing something you'll regret.”

“That's what Blaine said.”

“He's a smart guy.”

He stood up and made to leave.

“Thanks for the advice, dad.”

“Any time, son.”

* * *

Kurt sat down on his throne and looked around at the people occupying the main hall. To his left, Blaine was sitting among the rest of the witnesses – for once not next to Kurt since he was involved in the case – and sent his husband a small smile. To the right were Chandler, with his parents behind him, and his two accomplices. In the middle of the room, a small section had been fenced off for the lords and the members of the council. Behind them, a large crowd had gathered, chattering in excitement, all eager to see how this would play out.

The young king glanced at his father, who had been given an honorary place a few feet from him. When the latter nodded encouragingly, Kurt took a deep breath and stood up, drawing the ceremonial sword he was carrying and laying it on the table in front of him, a sign that the trial had begun. At once, the people in the back stopped talking.

“The trial against Chandler Kiehl, son of Lord Robert Kiehl, Stephen Richardson and Peter Collins has now commenced. May justice be served.”

After he had said the official opening words, Kurt turned to the people sitting and standing scattered around the room.

“As you can all see, I have summoned the lords and the council and asked them to sit in on this trial. They are here to make sure that I maintain my objectivity given that I myself and especially my husband are involved in this case.”

A round of whispers burst from the crowd until Kurt raised his hand to silence them again.

“First, we will hear the witnesses, then the accused will be given the chance to defend themselves.”

He nodded towards the witness stand. Sam immediately stood up and gave his account of the events, loud enough so that everyone in the room would be able to hear him. Kurt asked him some additional questions, not because he needed more information, but for the sake of their audience. After Sam, Dalonderiel and the other elves followed, one by one describing what they had seen in the clearing and later in the castle.

Eventually, only Blaine remained as the last witness. As he walked to the front of the room, Kurt admired how calm he looked, how well he was able to hide the nerves Kurt had caught a glimpse of in the morning. He paused a few times during his testimony, but eventually managed to struggle through. Before he went back to his place, Blaine looked back at Kurt, who sent a comforting smile his way.

Then Kurt stood up himself to recount the incident from his own point of view, including what had happened in Chandler's room and what the nobleman had told Kurt without leaving anything out. He hadn't told anyone what exactly had gone down that evening, instead sticking to a summarised version. After he was done, scandalised shouts echoed through the main hall. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Blaine with his hands curled into fists, looking shocked by the new information.

“Silence, please!” Kurt's voice boomed, continuing once the noise had died down. “The witnesses have spoken, we will now hear what the accused have to say in their defence.”

As it turned out, Blaine had been right. Both Richardson and Collins testified how Chandler had forced them and the other men from the clearing to obey his command. Apparently, he had threatened some of them with life incarceration, while the others had had to fear for their families' well-being.

“Your Highness.” Stephen Richardson, the one who had almost killed Blaine, addressed the latter directly to the surprise of everyone there. “I am so sorry about my actions. I hope you understand it wasn't personal. But I didn't know what else to do.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife while they all waited to see how Blaine would react. Kurt was just about to step in, when his husband finally replied.

“I do understand why you felt you had to obey the order you were given. Nevertheless, I want you to realise that you did have another choice. You could have told someone. We could have helped if you had asked for it.”

That only left Chandler. Considering the many testimonies they had already heard against him, all they needed to know from him was what his motives had been. The young man desperately tried to plead with Kurt, claiming he loved him and that he had thought Kurt loved him too, that he had only pretended to reject him. His argument wasn't convincing to anyone in the room, especially after what Kurt had already said about repeatedly trying to get Chandler to keep his distance. When he realised no one believed him, there was nothing else Chandler could do but beg for his life. Kurt eventually raised his hand to shut the blubbering nobleman up.

“We have heard all those involved in this case. Would anyone like to add anything else?” He let the silence last for a few minutes before he continued. “Stephen Richardson and Peter Collins, considering the gravity of your crimes but also taking into account the extenuating circumstances, I sentence you to imprisonment for the duration of one year. In addition, you will be dishonourably discharged from the army. You are allowed to take up any other profession after your imprisonment that does not involve fighting in any way. Do you understand your sentence?”

Both men nodded and thanked the king for his leniency, knowing full well that they could have been hanged for their actions.

“Chandler Kiehl, I have long deliberated on your punishment. To be honest, I was very tempted to give you the death penalty, as would be the usual punishment in cases like this. However, my husband asked me to give you a second chance. Since I value his opinion very much, I will exile you for life instead. You will no longer be allowed to live in Eirenia. You will lose your title and thereby every claim you had on your father's position. You can take one horse and some money, but you will be expected to have left the country within two days. If you are caught on this land after that deadline, your life will be forfeited. Do you understand your sentence?”

Chandler also nodded in a subdued manner, looking at the ground.

“If someone disagrees with these sentences, you may speak now,” Kurt said, not really expecting anyone to do so. When it stayed silent, he took the ceremonial sword from the table, declared the trial to be over and sheathed it.

He watched as Chandler and his accomplices were led out of the room by several guards, followed by Chandler's parents, who wore grim expressions. As the room started to empty, Blaine joined him and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Epilogue**

The elves had left; they had returned to their country. According to the last rumours, Chandler had fled to one of the coastal countries and boarded a ship to a country overseas. Peace and calm had once again settled over the castle and life went on as before.

Kurt and Blaine had taken the kids to the clearing for the first time in weeks, now that it was finally safe again. Kurt had even decided to go without the additional bodyguards Burt had advised them to bring. He knew Blaine would never get his previous confidence or sense of safety back if he was constantly surrounded by a small army of guards. Of course, they had taken some extra precautions to avoid a repeat of the past. For example, there were currently two scouts in the forest, somewhat hidden, looking out for anyone who might approach. Blaine had also gotten some archery lessons from Dalonderiel, something he found he genuinely enjoyed and seemed to be very good at.

Even though Blaine managed to hide it fairly well, Kurt noticed he kept looking around at the trees surrounding them, as if he thought there was someone watching them. Kurt took Blaine's hand in his and squeezed it softly. Blaine looked back at him and smiled sheepishly.

Kurt knew it would take a while before his husband would feel safe there again. Soon, this whole ordeal would fade to a memory, one they would have learned from. But, he supposed, it was always better to be a bit cautious. After all, you never knew what could happen when you least expected it.

**The end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is not one of my best stories, but then again, I kind of wrote this mostly for myself. I still had so many ideas after writing 'Lost In The Shuffle'. So I hope you guys liked it anyway.


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